


Vigil

by ddagent



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Bedside Vigils, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6374131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of Starkiller base, Leia refuses to leave Han’s side as he recovers from his wounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vigil

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Star Wars or any of its characters, or settings - all belongs to LucasFilm and Disney.
> 
> Meant to be part of my Writing Lab, this story got away from me. I hope you enjoy it, though! This story can be counted as part of my Rey Solo verse (which you can read in my prompt collection 'They Have Their Moments'), but it’s not explicit.

Pain was a natural state to her now. As natural as breathing; as easy as walking. She had lost her entire home world, her parents and family; watched them obliterated into nothing but dust and rock. After that, she had been adamant that nothing would ever feel as painful. But then she had lost her son to the darkness, her brother to his pain, her daughter to the blade of a lightsaber. 

Now she had lost her husband too. 

Leia Organa stood, solemnly, in a quiet corner of the control room. All around her the Rebellion rejoiced; triumphant in another lucky victory. They cried and hugged and thanked whatever deities they had prayed to moments before. Leia did not join their celebrations. Instead, she struggled to stand. A part of her felt like it had been ripped out. Another piece of her heart. Ben, Breha, Luke. _Now Han._

“General, the _Millennium Falcon_ is on its way back!”

The technician spoke to her like this was good news, as if they expected her to rush outside and reunite with her estranged husband. They did not know. Nor could they know. Still, she felt herself pulled along with the rest of the Rebellion; running outside to give their few remaining pilots a hero’s welcome. 

She had done that, once upon a time. Rushed from the control room, full of victory and triumph. Grabbed a hold of Luke, wrapped an arm round Han. After the destruction of everything she had held dear, she had wanted to clutch onto the two of them and never let go. To her left, Leia watched a pilot embrace a friend; a technician throw themselves at someone who had returned home. There would be no such reunion for her. Not this time. 

The _Millennium Falcon_ landed with little fanfare. The crowd were busy with their own celebrations; they would only join Leia when the crew of the _Falcon_ came out. The ramp descended, yet no one appeared. She stood in front of the ship, her home and safe place for so many years, and waited for a man who would not come. 

“We got a casualty, human male, about twenty years of age...”

Snippets of radio echoed in Leia’s ears as she watched the medical team rush past her. The former storm trooper, Finn, was ushered onto a stretcher and immediately carried back into the base. There had been too many casualties on this mission. The _Falcon_ had obviously come back in one piece. But who was flying it? Chewie? Or the girl?

“We need another med team over here! Another human male, it’s Captain-”

_Han._

She felt it. Felt _him._ No one else had left the _Falcon,_ yet Leia knew that he was alive. She knew it like she had when they were married: how she’d known when he was home, or when he was being less than honest. She knew it like had when they were separated; all the nights she had woken up gripped with worry as she felt his distress. Now she felt his heartbeat - weak, thin - right beside her own. 

Finally there was movement at the entryway into the _Falcon._ His face was as ashen as the snow on Hoth; his clothes sticky and dark with blood. Chewbacca laid him gently on the second stretcher, the Wookie producing an agonising roar as his friend was led away. Han passed her, unconscious and half dead, and then he was gone. 

“He'll be okay, won’t he?”

A young woman had left the _Falcon_ with Chewie, wrapped in clothes meant for the harsh deserts of places like Tatooine. She was young, and scared, and looked like she’d been through hell. She needed an answer to her question, but the Wookie refused to give her one. Instead Chewie rested a paw atop her shoulder, his fur brushing the young woman’s cheek. He saw Leia, bowed his head, before following the direction Han had taken. Leia was left with the girl. _Rey._

 _“_ He doesn’t want to say, does he?” Rey swallowed, blinking away the few tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. “He doesn’t want to tell me there’s no hope.” 

Hope was not a luxury Leia indulged in. That Han had come back at all was a miracle in itself. “It’s Rey, isn’t it?

“Yes.”

Rey the girl from Jakku; the girl who’d stolen back the _Falcon_ and flew it like Han Solo himself. Han had spoken so highly of her in the short time they’d talked. It seemed her husband had made a similar impact on the young pilot. Leia remembered being that young, being that scared and alone. There had been no one to comfort her then. But Rey had her. 

“They’ll do everything they can.”

Pressing her hand to Rey’s shoulder, Leia brought her into a hug. Two hands clutched at her back, fingertips digging in as if protecting herself from being ripped away. Leia held her close; stroking the back of her neck like she would for her own daughter. She tried to offer her the comfort she could not give herself. Right now, there was still hope. 

But as Leia knew first hand, hope didn’t last forever. 

\--

Han was alive. _For now._

He still looked half dead, and Leia did not need the steady bleep of the monitor to tell her how weak his pulse was. She could hear its soft, aching thump beside her own. The doctors had done everything they could to repair the wound to his side. The lightsaber had damaged his organs, but not his heart or his lungs. _It could be a lot worse,_ the doctors had said. Leia wasn’t so sure. Now all she could do was sit, and wait, and _hope._

The door to the med-bay opened. _Rey._ Leia didn’t even have to turn around. The young woman came to visit Han at the same time each day, before sitting with Finn until she fell asleep. Chewie came and went; the Wookie determined to fix the _Falcon_ into flying shape for the inevitable base evacuation. Leia did not move. She just sat. And waited. 

“How is he today?” 

Leia shrugged. “The same.” She touched his hand, gripped his fingers. They were so lifeless, so  _dead. “_ But he’s a stubborn son of a bitch. If anyone can get through this, it’ll be him.”

A smaller hand reached out, touching Han’s. “I’m sure you’re right. We didn’t have much time together. But I liked him. I _think_ he liked me. He offered me a job, at least.”

“He did like you. Han doesn’t let just anyone pilot the _Falcon.”_

Rey smiled timidly, but Leia could see she appreciated the sentiment. She picked up her knees, curling herself into a ball on the chair beside Leia. She seemed tired, drained by recent events. Leia knew exactly what it was like to fear for someone, to feel entirely alone. She was determined that Rey wouldn’t be. 

With her other hand, Leia squeezed Rey’s knee. “How are you finding the base? Do you have somewhere to sleep? Are you getting enough to eat? I can find another change of clothes for you.”

“I’m fine with these, thank you.” Rey smiled, lips thin. “I’m sleeping on the _Falcon,_ Chewie offered me a bunk. As for food...I think this is the first time I’ve ever had a full stomach.”

She made the decision then and there that Rey would not leave until she was satisfied she had been well cared for. Rey, it seemed, had similar intentions. “How about you? Captain Dameron said you haven’t been eating.”

 _Poe. Tattle-tale._ She knew he cared, as did Chewie. But right now she had more important things to think about. Like making sure that Rey was taken care of; that she was there when Han woke up. “I find I have little appetite right now. But thank you for your concern, Rey.”

“Chewie said you should come by the _Falcon._ He’s got plenty in the stores, he’ll cook for us both.”

Leia swallowed. She couldn’t be on the _Falcon_ right now. “Thank you, Rey, but-”

“You should rest, too. You’re always here. I could sit with Han, if you wanted. Chewie and I could take shifts, so there’s always-”

“ _Rey.”_ She stopped. “I’m _fine_. I appreciate your concern, but I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can. But Han would want us to look out for you.” 

_The princess - you have to take care of her._

Leia looked away, staring at her husband. She reached over, brushing some hair away from his face. What she wouldn’t give to see his eyes, his smile, his most _infuriating_ grin. He couldn’t leave her, not yet. There was still so much left unsaid; so many moments they could still share together. They had another war to fight, _dammit,_ he didn’t think he was getting out of this one so easily. Leia struggled to regain her composure as she touched his face. 

“Did he tell you about me? About us?”

“No.” She wasn’t surprised. “But Chewie did. He said you both loved each other very much.”

Leia nodded. “ _I do._ He better not die before I tell him that.”

She clutched at his hand, lacing his fingers through her own. Rey slipped away, taking up vigil across the other side of the med-bay. The doctors had recommended talking to them, encouraging them back into the world. Rey whispered to Finn: stories from her time on Jakku; all the new things she was seeing on the Rebel base. Leia didn’t know what to say to Han. So she just held his hand, hoping that he could feel her like she could feel him. 

\--

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since her son, her _Ben,_ had tried to murder his father. There had been no change in Han. She had been adamant oncethat she’d seen his hand move. The doctors had suggested it was nothing more than a trick of the light. She had seen their hesitation, _knew_ that they had wanted to say it was just her imagination. But they had thought better of it. Leia was starting to think that they were right. The longer it took for Han to wake up, the more her hope was stripped away. 

The one good thing had been the presence of Rey. She came by every day to visit Han and Finn and _her._ They talked little, but it was enough to make Leia look forward to their time together. Now, of course, Rey was leaving. She had volunteered to use the map that Luke had left, to bring her brother home. It was the culmination of the journey Rey and Finn had started together, and nothing could dissuade her from going. 

After whispering her goodbyes to a still comatose Finn, Rey joined her by Han’s bedside. 

“We’re all ready to go.” Rey offered her a reassuring smile, before leaning down and kissing Han on the cheek. She whispered in his ear: “Chewie thinks you’re just faking it now, so you better be up before I get back.”

Leia managed a smile as the young woman’s attention turned to her. She fiddled with the new set of clothes Rey wore; the second hand jacket fitting her comfortably. Rey carried so much hope inside of her: Luke _will_ return, Han _will_ wake up. Leia had never been the type to hang onto something so intangible. But with Rey’s departure, she had nothing left to focus on. 

“Rey,” Leia began, unsure of where to finish. “May the Force be with you.”

She didn’t watch her leave, but Leia heard the _snick_ of the door close behind her. The room suddenly felt too small, too quiet. Leia felt suffocated. She sat, holding her husband’s hand, as the _Falcon_ made it’s first journey with Chewie and someone else as the pilot. She could feel Rey, feel her nerves overwhelm the hope she had. But she held onto it like a lifeline. 

“You can’t let her down, Han. If you can’t wake up for me, you _have_ to wake up for her.”

For one moment, Leia believed her words would work. When Han didn’t immediately open his eyes, Leia decided to take a break. Before his departure, she had promised Chewie she would take care of herself. Leia was not one to go back on her word. She would sleep a little, eat a little, and then return to Han. 

“I’ll come back. I promise.”

With one final squeeze of his hand, Leia left her husband’s side. She walked on unsteady legs, her body needing more rest than her constant vigil provided. As she reached the med-bay door, Leia felt something pull her back. Her stomach churned, her head swam. For a moment she thought it was the lack of food, lack of sleep. But then she noticed the change in the room. That steady beep was louder, faster. As was the soft thump against her chest.

She turned, trying to stifle the hope she felt building. But she saw Han’s hand twitch, clear as day. Then she heard him groan. 

Leia approached the bed, watching him intently. His fingers were the first to move, then his feet underneath the hospital sheets. Leia fell back into the chair she had become so accustomed to, unable to stop the smile on her face as her husband began to stir. His chest heaved, taking in a deep gulp of air. Leia gathered his hand in hers and pressed it against her cheek. She felt the movement of his fingertips brush her skin.

Then his eyes opened. Bloodshot hazel stared up at her; blinking once, twice. Leia felt his hand take possession of itself and cradle her cheek; his thumb brushing her bottom lip. “ _Leia...”_ His dry lips managed a hint of a smile. “Where am I?”

“You’re safe, Han. You’re at the rebel base. You’ve been out for two weeks.”

Han nodded, immediately trying to lift himself into a sitting position. He hissed, the wound in his side not completely healed. When he was settled, his eyes refused to move from hers. He’d had the same look on his face when he’d recovered from the carbonite, like he was seeing her face for the first time. But then something changed. A shadow fell across his face; a memory crawled out of the darkness and his half smile fell away.

“I couldn’t-I couldn’t.” Han wet his cracked lips, his voice rough like sandpaper. “Couldn’t save him. Couldn’t save our son.” 

His hand fell from her face. Leia tried to hold it once more, but Han jerked it back. He turned his head away, unable to look at her. The guilt and pain that had eaten away at him, at _them_ , all those years ago had come back to claim him once more. Leia wanted to tell him that it wasn’t his fault, that she didn’t blame him, not for anything. He had tried. He had _tried._ But the darkness was too strong. 

“I couldn’t bring him home.” He clutched wildly at her hand, finally looking up at her. “I’m so sorry, Leia. I couldn’t bring him home.”

 _But you came home._ Leia might never see the son she loved again, or be reunited with her brother. But Han had come back to her. Right now, that was enough. 


End file.
